The New Witch
by AveraIllisa
Summary: Ellen has been living in Viola's body for a year now, and all is right with the world. But what she doesn't know is that Viola survived - and has devised a lovely punishment for her friend for her ugly betrayal. Ellen has learnt the hard way that she isn't the only one who has mastered the art of sorcery...
1. Chapter 1

Viola hummed tunelessly as the needle she wielded punctured the delicate fabric she held. A sloppy seam appeared as she cautiously sewed another strand of light blonde hair to the lousily created doll she had just made. As the last strand was connected, Viola held the plush at arm's length to examine her creation – a small stuffed toy, no bigger that the palm of her hand. Pale fabric made up the skin of the design and two green buttons were sewn onto the face to make up the eyes. A small white dress adorned the tiny doll's figure, ending at a delicate blue-and-red trim were the legs – both fitted into a pair of large brown boots – protruded out of. Still humming her merry little song, the girl proceeded to style the toy's hair, twisting the messy gold locks into a pair of small braids. She giggled manically when the deed was finished, the plush completed.

"Oh, Ellen…I've missed you so," Viola murmured, tracing a pale finger down the doll's face. "And we'll see who gets the last laugh."

In a quiet voice, a stream of haunting words began to drift out of the girl's mouth. A purple mist seemed to envelope the adolescent as she continued her evocative song, a magical aura wafting about the toy she held proudly in her hands. The chant went on and on, unbroken, until finally the last word left her mouth. The purple-haired witch gazed down at the doll in her hands and smirked when the button eyes seemed to twitch quite subtly.

"Hello, Ellen," Viola sniggered, raising her needle high into the air and bringing it down with a hastened pace. The pointed tip punctured the skin of the doll and, unbelievably, blood began to leak out of the wound. A shriek cut the air from an undetectable location and Viola laughed in an unnerving fashion.

"Oh, I'm going to like this," Viola hummed, lifting up the injured plush as it wailed horribly. This time, instead of torturing it with her small weapon, the witch played around with the toy's limbs, flailing them around in a manner that made it seem like it was walking. "I'm going to like this very much."

"Viola, can you bring me my shotgun?"

"Yes, daddy!" Ellen hollered out the door before rushing up the porch steps to retrieve her father's gun. The blonde ran into the house and grabbed the long weapon, hurrying back out into the sunlight to offer it to her father. The hunter accepted it gratefully, ruffling his daughter's hair in an affectionate manner. Ellen grinned as her father embraced her and warned her not to leave the premises until he returned.

"I'm not going to be out for long – just need to snag something for dinner, alright?" Ellen nodded, signifying that she understood the dangers of the forest. After all, she still recalled the horrifying image of long ago – fleeing through the woods with Viola hot on her trail, but it ended alright in the end. She had watched in satisfaction as her 'father' raised his weapon and ended her 'friends' life right before her eyes, and realizing with content that those years of pain and neglect had finally been vanquished.

"Don't worry, daddy! I'll be alright," Ellen murmured positively, earning another affectionate gaze from her father. After a brief exchange of hugs and several cautions, Ellen found herself waving farewell to the hunter as he trotted down the path with his gun slung over his shoulder, glinting in the bright sunlight. Ellen watched him go with a smirk. The hunter was just as foolish as his idiotic offspring – gullible enough to believe the lies that poured out of his mouth and loving enough to provide her with whatever she wished. It was no wonder Viola had been such a spoiled brat of a child, unable to comprehend how wonderfully her father treated her. Such insolence needed to be severely disciplined – and Viola's demise had been a fitting punishment for imprudent girl.

"And now…an evening all to myself," Ellen murmured with a contented sigh, watching her father's disappearing figure as he sauntered down the dirt path. Finally, an entire day free of phony smiles and sickly sweet remarks exchanged between her and her 'father'; words and sentences that nearly made her sick with disgust. At least the hunter did his job and supplied her with objects and food she clamored for, just like a real father should. Just as she was about to consider all the ideas she could commit during this evening of alone time, a sharp pain erupted from her lower torso that literally blew the air out of her lungs. She collapsed backward, holding her stomach in shock and agony as the feeling of a needle being punctured into her flesh increased. Normally, she would be able to withstand this sort of pressure, but she hadn't had the need to endure any sort of pain since she traded bodies with Viola. Viola was a perfectly healthy girl that rarely suffered from any sort of illness, so she never required the skill to tolerate agony for a very long time – which was why such a sharp pain was acknowledged.

_What IS this? _Ellen gasped, clutching at her middle as the pain spiked. It was as if someone had literally picked her up and shoved a needle through her stomach, slowly pushing the tip further in as if they relished her agony. Then, miraculously, the ache began to fade. Grunting, the girl clambered to a sitting position and rubbed at the lingering sore with a bemused expression. What had happened? That certainly wasn't normal…without a doubt, she had just witnessed professional magic – someone who had perfected the art of enchantment and wizardry to a proficient level even she could not comprehend. But what grudge could possibly be held by a professional enchanter and bestowed upon her? She could recall no witch or wizard that she had annoyed to such a high point. She was on no one's list, unless….

"No," Ellen shook her head to further her belief, though her voice was sounded shaky even to her. "That's not possible…Viola's dead. _I saw her." _

_Or was she? _

It was entirely possible – Viola had managed to unlock her magic powers when the body-switching spell had been first activated. It was quite probable that she managed to trigger a spell just before her father had fired his gun that had deflected the blow – but restoring her severed body parts was a questioning issue. Her demon ally hadn't supplied her with so much power and she was unable to repair injuries or sicknesses, so how had she healed herself? If she hadn't, she would've died off long ago from blood loss or outside infections. Unless she was thinking too much and it WASN'T her betrayed friend behind this….

_But then who could it be? _

As she was pondering over the identity of her attacker, she felt her left hand rise against her will. She gaped, wide-eyed, as her limbs began to flail about unplanned, one foot taking a step forward. Soon she was walking steadily onward, struggling to halt the actions of her own body. But whatever sorcery had been stimulated, she was unable to break it apart, and she resumed sauntering out the door and vanishing into the woods.

Branches scraped at her face and leaves riddled her hair as she wandered into the woods, unable to even lift her arms to push away the stems cutting her skin. Her joints felt paralyzed as she moved stiffly, marching not unlike a storm trooper with large steps and arms swinging. Finally, she emerged from the densely grown woods and into very familiar surroundings – a large stone mansion loomed over her head, crumbly bricks flaking off the ancient building and large patches of ivy covering the structure. Cracks bloomed across dusty windowpanes and exposed a dark interior, making the large mansion seem distant and lonely – just as she had left it.

"My old home," Ellen murmured, nearly forgetting she was momentarily controlled by someone else. She was jerked out of her reverie when her limbs began moving again, approaching the large building that covered her in its shadow. The door creaked open as she advanced as she ventured through it into the darkness beyond. She squinted to make out objects in the semi-dark as she walked through the memorable household. The familiar furnishings adorning the occasional room brought on so many memories – most of which were unpleasant days of agony and suffering. She was reminded roughly of those tough days where she was to fend for herself – alone, unwanted; persecuted by the world and her ugly fate.

Finally, after entering the last room – her old bedroom – the spell seemed to fall away and she stumbled a bit, arms stinging. Her entire body ached and she collapsed to the ground, chest heaving. What was happening? Who had brought her to her old home? So many questions, and yet none seemed yet be answered – and she remained none the wiser.

"Well, well, well…"

A voice, smug and haunting, rang out in the still darkness. The words rang in Ellen's ears and she stiffened – not from the mockery that tinged the unknown voice, but from the familiarity of the tone. She knew that voice – it was the same voice that spoke in a strained tone every day, the very one that coughed and wheezed every 3 minutes. She recognized the voice because she heard it every day – because there never went a day without her hearing its strangled cry.

No one could mistake the sound of their own voice.

"This is interesting, isn't it? The great witch Ellen, bested by some meager spell…"

"Viola…" Ellen murmured, clambering to her feet just as her past friend emerged from the shadows she lay swathed in. Viola had changed somewhat during the past year – the last she had saw her, she had been some pitiful creature dying in bed with severed arteries spurting blood. But now, her eyes and legs – even her burnt throat – had been restored miraculously. Her once golden eyes now flashed red, and her long purple tresses had been fastened into a loose ponytail held together with the all-familiar red bow. Her outfit – consisting of a bright red pinafore worn over a white blouse – remained no different, simply lacking the bloodstains that used to riddle the fabric. Her bangs had grown quite long and were brushed to the side of her face, held there by several bobby pins Viola had undoubtedly scrounged up from her desk. Ellen was quite taken aback, seeing her own body in such a healthy state – and even more so by how eye-catching she seemed. When she stared at the mirror before, all she saw was a pale-faced, sickly girl who made her own face scrunch up in disgust. When had she grown so pretty?

A grin spread across Viola's face as she crossed her hands over her chest. "I can see you are…bemused, to say the least, Ells. Surprised to see me? I would think you would be happy to be reunited with a lost friend…."

"Get to the POINT, Viola," Ellen scowled, knowing that Viola hadn't brought her here simply for a happy reunion. She wanted revenge – wanted to make her PAY. She wouldn't stand for sickly sweet comments about lost friendships and happy get-togethers when she knew full well that a snake hid beneath the friendly exterior. "Just tell me what you want."

"Oh my," Viola placed a hand over her mouth, amused by the display of immorality. "What makes you think I want something?"

"After I betrayed you and took your father from you, I would think you would want revenge," Ellen retorted, placing a hand on her hip as she regarded her old friend. Viola seemed quiet for the moment, allowing her eyes to flicker up her now older body. She supposed her 'friend' was studying her…after all, she hadn't seen 'herself' for at least a year now and Ellen herself knew she had grown somewhat. She no longer wore her hair up in braids, now preferring to just let the long golden locks spill down her shoulders freely. She had dumped her – or should she say Viola's – previous outfit and now a long purple garment was fitted to her slim frame, a slightly tatty apron worn over the dress. She still wore her 'father's' old hunting shoes despite the poor fit as the leather was soft and comfortable from years of use. Ellen felt Viola taking it all in as she stood there with arms folded.

"Oh, Ellen…" Viol's voice had lowered, pity and sadness mingling with her words. "I trusted you. For me, you were always my favorite friend…OF COURSE I wanted to help you. I wanted to help you more than anything in the world….I even argued with my father so I could continue to visit you."

"Well, you've already helped me," Ellen smirked, gesturing down her new body. "I have everything now….a family, some friends, and a healthy body. So thank you, my friend…you were quite a help."

"I TRUSTED YOU!" with a shriek, Viola threw up an arm and sent Ellen slamming into the opposite wall, held securely by an unseen force. Viola had lost her steady head and now tears of frustration, anger and betrayal ran freely down her face. "I LOVED you, Ellen! You were my best friend….I would've done ANYTHING for you….but when I helped you, you just took everything away! Everything I had and wanted….EVERYTHING!"

"Everything you took for granted, you mean?" Ellen snapped, causing Viola to flinch visibly. The power used to restrain her to the wall loosened somewhat but did not disengage, leaving the blonde to stay pinned to the location. "You know what I mean, 'friend'….you took EVERYTHING you had for granted, even your FATHER. You NEVER saw eye-to-eye with him, and always parried with him! But since I've taken over, things have been different….do you know what your father said to me today?"

"What?" Viola scowled, hating that she had gotten so wrung up in Ellen's tale. Her friend smiled, not unkindly.

"He told me I was behaving MUCH BETTER than that SPOILED BRAT of a child in the past," Ellen murmured, satisfied with the affect her words had on her friend. Viola's jaw slackened, eyes widened, and she stumbled several steps. The force around Ellen faltered, but still it remained – much to her chagrin. Viola muttered some unheard words to herself as her fingers weaved into her long purple tresses, entangling the once silky straight strands. Ellen noticed with some smugness the hurt expression that now replaced Viola's angered one.

"You're lying," Viola murmured quietly, turning on her past friend with a look of outrage. "YOU ARE LYING!"

"I'm NOT," Ellen replied. "Those were his exact words….'Why, Viola! I noticed you were doing much better this year…no spats or tantrums! Why, this is what my daughter should be! I'm glad you grew out of that CHILDISH, SPOILT behavior you used to possess in the past.'"

Viola sunk to her knees before her friend, tears spilling freely down her stricken face. So it was true…she knew her father more than anyone else, and she recognized the pattern of the words Ellen had said…those were her father's words, and he preferred Ellen more than he ever did her. With a wail, Viola curled into a ball and wept, whimpering about the familial love she'll never receive again.

"Oh my…has the great Viola lost her bravado? No surprises there…you never had much of courage!" Ellen spat, mimicking Viola's words from previously. Enraged, Viola glared at her sullenly and whipped out an object from an unseen location. With flair, the purple-haired adolescent also fetched a sharp sewing needle from a nearby table scattered with embroidery supplies and stabbed the point deeply into the item she had clutched in her other hand.

A familiar sharp pain erupted from Ellen's stomach area and made her cry out, gasping as the agony from before returned with more vigor. She also noted the maniacal smile that stretched across her past friend's face, hinting at an injured sanity as she continued to mutilate the object – which Ellen now noticed was a doll – with the pointed needle. Pain exploded from every area of the blonde's body and she squirmed terribly, tightening her hands into fists to drown out the aches until her nails ruptured her skin.

"What…?" Ellen gasped when the pain left her, eyes warily observing her friend. Now that she had ceased her harried actions, the blonde could clearly make out the plush toy in Viola's hands – it was messily crafted, with golden hair twisted into twin braids that tumbled down its small, bare shoulders. A familiar white dress was fitted to its petite frame and a pair of brown boots protected its small feet. The face consisted of mere buttons for its eyes, glimmering a bright green color the same color as hers –

Ellen stopped dead. Her past witch senses had kicked in and now she realized what sorcery was employed to formulate such pain on her person. "Voodoo," Ellen whispered, hardly believing that her friend had managed to seize and control such a powerful level of witchcraft. "How did you manage…? How is it possible…?"

"Are you wondering how I managed to master this high level enchantment?" Viola smirked, laying down the voodoo doll now riddled with holes. Ellen noted with some horror the crimson fluid leaking out of the wounds and cautiously inspected herself for the same. Fortunately, her body seemed unharmed. Viola approached, still grasping the long needle used to puncture the plush. "You see, Ellen…after you betrayed me and left me to DIE, my will still stood….I still had a strong desire to live, to seek revenge. The demon cat managed to sense the powerful longing I possessed and restored my body. Since then I've been in your house, practicing wizardry and spells. While YOU'VE been under my dear father's care, getting spoilt and selfish…I'VE been practicing just how much I could do. The demon cat only offered to heal my body so I could grow powerful and get him souls….and when I reach a master level, I will hone in on YOU."

"But…voodoo," Ellen murmured, eyeing the plush toy warily. "That is a sort of magic only experts can deploy. How had you managed?"

"My strong desire pushed me onward," Viola replied, stroking the hair of the sloppily done voodoo doll. The tip of the needle lay dangerously close to its flesh, and Ellen ground her teeth for preparation for what was to come. A sharp prick was felt at her cheek area as the point once again tore through the fabric, but Viola seemed to be merely playing as she never drove it deeper than a few centimeters in. "My strong desire to KILL YOU, my dear…'friend'. For what you did to me."

Ellen swallowed thickly. When she had fled the forest a year before, she hadn't considered the fact that Viola would restore herself and seek revenge on her person. It hadn't even crossed her mind that her past friend would devise such a plan to make sure she paid for her sins. But here she was, in full mercy of the sweet friend that wouldn't dare harm a fly. Viola had become a powerful, wicked witch that had skills that made her envious. How had she exceeded her magical properties so far ahead in a mere year? And there was something else, too…

"My illness," Ellen said, catching the witch's attention. "How did you cure it?"

"Illness?" Viola's eyes widened, and she giggled slightly. "Oh my, Ellen…how foolish of you. You actually thought that the demon who sided with hadn't the skills to cure your disease? Did you even KNOW what your illness was?"

Ellen remained quiet.

"Witchcraft is a risky sort of magic, dear Ellen," Viola smirked, enjoying that now, the tables had turned. "Do it wrong, it turns on YOU. You were talented, Ellen…but you were also WEAK. Your body was unable to support the sort of spells you employed, therefore causing this 'illness' to spawn. You could've gotten rid of it all along if you had stopped witchcraft for a month or two. But you DIDN'T. Just so desperate to find that perfect girl to switch bodies with, weren't you? You just made your own sickness worse."

"You shut up," Ellen growled, shaking with anger and frustration. She refused to hear any more. Viola was undoubtedly LYING. It couldn't be true…could it?

"Oh Ells, how amusing it is when you refuse to hear the truth," Viola sniggered slightly, spiking Ellen's already rising fury. With a cry, Ellen fetched out her knife – the only object she had kept of her previous life – and sliced through the invisible force keeping her locked to the wall. Viola's eyebrows cocked curiously, impressed that Ellen had managed to disengage her spell, but it wasn't long before another was activated. Shadowy hands tore from the earth to claw at the blonde and it wasn't long before the hands grabbed hold of the flailing girl. The knife dropped to the ground with a clatter and Viola stooped down to fetch it, turning it in her hands with a grin.

"So this is Ellen's knife…" Viola murmured, stroking the intricate carvings on the knife's handle. The blade was impressively sharp and smooth, and Viola could detect some level of wizardry from deep within the object. No wonder it was able to slice so cleanly through her spell as though it were palpable – this knife had magical properties Ellen undoubtedly knew about. It didn't take a genius to know what made her keep it.

"This is also the blade you used to mutilate your body, yes?" Viola murmured with a hint of frostiness. She remembered all too clearly the pain felt as soon as their bodies were swapped – realizing that Ellen had deceived her by preparing a gory dissection on her own body by gouging out her eyes and chopping off her legs. Viola approached her captive friend with the blade raised, tracing shapes in her friend's face delicately with her weapon. The shallow carvings wept blood and Ellen winced, struggling against the shadowed hands that kept her securely fastened to the ground.

"You were smart, Ellen. The body-switching spell you received from the demon…it was a powerful spell at the height of witchcraft. I haven't learnt it yet…I doubt I ever will." There was a hint of fury under Viola's friendly tone and her hand trembled, resisting the urge to bury the knife in her friend's head. "I was surprised you managed to activate the spell…but the demon cat fiddled with the enchantment so that it would be easier to employ. Tricky little creature…it was also a one-side spell so it can't be reversed. And now I can't go back to my father." Viola's hand quivered vigorously now, her face etched with pain and anger. "I can't go back to my father…and it's ALL YOUR FAULT!"

With a roar, the purple-haired witch plunged the knife into her friend's skin, causing a scream to ripple through the mansion. Ellen flailed wildly as shrieks tore from her throat, all of which Viola relished as she continued dissecting the evil individual which had ruined her life. "The same blade used to murder your parents…the same blade used to mutilate your own body…will be the SAME BLADE used to bring you to hell!"

Finally, Ellen grew still. Since serving the demon, Viola had become an expert at torture and she knew exactly how to draw out someone's agony for as long as possibly can. Ellen's excruciating torment had lasted 3 hours at least, until finally her damaged soul decided to depart skyward. Viola smiled faintly – finally, it was done, but she couldn't stop feeling empty inside. All through the previous year, she had awaited this moment when she could make Ellen pay for all the lives she wrecked, but now that it was over, what could she do?

"Yo, Viola," a voice drifted out of the darkness and the witch turned her head to see a sleek black cat sitting in the shadows. Golden eyes observed her carefully as its tail flicked back and forth in a rather hypnotic fashion. "I see…the deed has been done. Ellen is dead."

"I know. But…" Viola sighed dramatically, burying her face in her hands, "but now that she's dead, what can I do? My life is…worthless now. Meaningless…"

"Wrong," the cat said with such urgency that it made Viola revert her focus to him. A curious answer…what did he mean, 'wrong'? It was the truth, wasn't it? Ellen was gone, and her anguish had been very satisfying. But now that it was over, there was nothing for her to do.

"You still are my faithful witch, Viola," the cat pounced onto her lap and purred, nuzzling her hands like a common housecat. Viola smiled softly as the cat comforted her – though a demon, he seemed quite an expert at reassuring young witch's. "There are still a lot of evil souls to eradicate in this world. You should get to it."

Viola's eyes widened and she nodded vigorously. Of course. That could be her new job – to murder the scum of the earth who were responsible for slaughter, rape and kidnapping. Souls that betrayed others, used innocent people, greedy individuals that sought their own gain. That could be her responsibility – to insure no one ever had to suffer like her again.

"Of course, lord," Viola agreed, running her fingers through the silky black fur. "But I don't want to be called Viola anymore….that was the name of the innocent village girl who loved her father. But this job…it has robbed me of that innocence. I'm afraid I am not that girl anymore…"

"Oh?" the demon cat cocked its head curiously. "Then who are you?"

The new witch smiled, gathering her posture as her decision was being firmly made. "I am the witch who uses evil spells for good – who tortures the evil and protects to the good. I use Ellen's wickedness for murder, but used Viola's sweetness to make sure those I torment are deserving of it. I am a cross between both girls – a witch, but also not one.

"I am Ella."

Luke grinned as his group of bullies persecuted the young girl who had stumbled into their territory. Verbal and physical assaults were being launched mercilessly as the girl wailed and begged for forgiveness and leniency. Laughs were exchanged as the timid child was attacked and spat upon, and Luke could not help but grin at the obvious pain the girl was in. He supposed it was best to call his group off, but that would mean the end of the fun, wouldn't it? It wouldn't hurt to stretch out her torment for a bit longer.

"That's what you get for messing with us, brat," Luke spat at the girl, snatching up a fistful of her dark hair and yanking her up. A scream tore from her throat as she struggled out of his grasp, but his grip was tight and the girl could only whimper in agony. Luke smirked and brought his leg up, smacking the child's face roughly with his boot. The girl sobbed in pain as he dropped her, curling herself into a tight ball to defend herself against their ruthless attacks.

A mocking laugh left Luke's lips as he approached the trembling girl, preparing to launch a final punch that would leave a mark on the child's face for eternity.

But he stopped when he felt a sharp pain at his side, like a needle was being shoved through his skin.


	2. Chapter 2

The hunter thundered down the road, hugging his rifle to his chest as he hurried down the dirt path. Water squelched under his feet unpleasantly as the rain lashed down, soaking the panicked middle-aged man as he sought out his missing daughter. Rainwater drenched the surroundings and made running difficult if one didn't want to turn an ankle. But caution was the furthest thing from the hunter's mind.

"VIOLA!" the hunter shouted into the wilderness, impatiently waiting for a reply as he sprinted across the forest. Overhanging branches and knobby roots threatened to rip his flesh and trip him over, but his pace remained hasty and quick. The hunter had returned home from a rather long day of hunting only to realize the devastating truth – that his 14 year-old daughter, Viola, was missing from the house. He had searched every nook and cranny for the absent girl but to his horror, he emerged with unsuccessful results. That was when he retrieved his gun and charged out into the rain, hoping to locate his child.

"Viola, please! Where are you?" the hunter screamed again. The sky was darkening and lightning lanced across the cold air, frightening in the rainstorm. The hunter usually would've despised venturing out in such freezing, unforgiving weather, but nothing would stop him from searching for his lost daughter. Viola was a timid girl and the hunter would never forgive himself if he found her harmed in some way. Obviously the child had gotten distracted by some unique flower or interesting animal and decided to explore the forest despite his warnings. It had happened before, but usually Viola would pop up less than 2 minutes into his search.

But today was different.

He had been scampering all throughout the forest for Viola for an hour, yelling her name until his voice had gone hoarse – and still, the blonde girl made no sign of appearing. For the first few minutes into his search, the hunter suspected some sort of foolish game and that Viola would come dashing out of a pile of bushes anytime – but soon enough, he could sense that something had gone horribly amiss. Where had his beloved child gone?

"Viola!" the hunter shouted futilely in the rain, his voice tinged with sadness and panic. He wanted to sink to his knees and weep for his foolishness – for leaving his young daughter alone for nearly the entire afternoon. But a part of him refused to give up, and the thought that Viola was somewhere out in this storm, shivering and frightened, pushed him onward. Just as he was peering behind a clump of shrubbery, the hunter's eyes widened and he gaped at what he saw beyond – a humongous house loomed from the forest, nearly invisible in the darkening sky and hidden beneath years-worth of ivy and moss. The windowpanes were shattered, sprinkling the sills with glass. And the swinging doors were slightly ajar as if someone – not long ago – had set foot upon this ancient threshold.

Cautiously, the hunter rose from his crouched position behind the bushes, approaching the imposing structure with careful steps. He was unsure of why, but something about this building seemed unnerving – and a bit familiar. He was quite sure he had seen it before, but whatever made it seem so was hidden underneath the greenery that covered it. As he was nearing the creaking doors, he realized something – there was an exceptional lack of animals in this area. Usually every part of the forest was an ideal dwelling for birds, small creatures and the like, but this location was eerily silent and free of the normal sounds a forest held.

Shoving down his rising apprehension, the hunter eased the door open further with the tip of his boot and peeked in, gun at the ready. The inside was a cluttered mess of crumbling furniture and rotting plants. A trail of blood soaked into the carpeting and made the hunter shudder, as if something or someone – someone hurt very bad – had crawled his/her way out the door…or in.

This type of thinking wasn't helping his situation one bit, but the hunter couldn't help but think these morbid ideas. Could it be some sort of monster? And…could he be sharing a house with it as he spoke?

At the thought of monster, the hunter was flashed back to a very memorable day – Viola fleeing from a house and clinging onto his arm, fearfully regarding a mutilated looking thing that was crawling towards her. The thing that vaguely resembled a human being, the thing that had gurgled out an incomprehensible word at his presence…but he never got to know what it was, as the three shots of his gun had finished the gruesome entity once and for all. But suddenly a horrid thought wormed its way into his head – the thing seemed to be AFTER Viola, but for what reason was beyond him. Could it be possible that it had lived? That it managed to seek out Viola….that it managed to drag her back to this place?

"No!" the hunter cried, refusing to believe the thought. Readying his weapon, the middle-aged man began to search the premises for Viola. The large dwelling housed a lot of rooms that he had to search thoroughly and he wasn't even halfway through when he was sweat-soaked and exhausted. Still no sign of Viola.

"Can I help you, sir?"

At the sound of an unfamiliar voice, the hunter leapt up, gun pointed. A girl about Viola's age stood behind him, hands behind her back in a formal posture. Purple locks of hair spilt down a shoulder in a messily done ponytail, several strands escaping the large red bow used to tie it up. A bright red satin dress was worn over a white blouse which slapped at her knees, and her red eyes examined his curiously. A small flicker crossed her polite face when the hunter faced her, but it was subtle and was easily missed by the man. The hunter lowered his gun and gazed at the girl with bemusement. How had she gotten here? And just like the house, he figured something about her was strangely familiar…like danger was attached to her or something…

"Sir?"

"Oh, yes!" the hunter stuttered, pointing his gun to the ground. "I'm…I'm looking for my daughter. She's about this tall, with blonde hair and green eyes…"

The girl's eyes widened as if a thought hit her. "Oh, I see. Well, a girl that matches your description came by, harried and panicked. I directed her to my bedroom so she could stay the night while I helped her look for her parent."

Relief flooded the hunter's senses. Viola was here, and she was safe. "Thank you…I was really worried about her. She always likes to go for walks, but she sometimes gets carried away."

The girl smiled kindly. "I understand that. I was a little like that…before," the girl seemed slightly sad, hinting at a heartrending past, but quickly recovered herself. She gestured to herself with a hand as she introduced herself politely. "My name is…Ella. You can find your daughter up this flight of stairs. Right side, the second door."

The hunter nodded gratefully and walked around the girl, tottering up the steps in eagerness to reunite with his daughter. Silly Viola…he was going to tell her off for running into the forest like that. It was fortunate that she had run into this girl, Ella. Though even her name sounded vaguely familiar. Ella….

The hunter stopped dead, recalling the note he had given to Viola on that fateful day.

_Dear Viola, _

_I'm sorry I got mad at you the other day. There's a rumor that a witch lives in the forest and kidnaps children who get lost there. Your friend __**Ellen **__lives very close to the forest, right? I don't mind if you go to her house…._

Ellen. Viola's friend's name was Ellen – eerily close to 'Ella'. And her looks…she resembled the horrifying thing that had trailed Viola on that very same day. A horrific figure without any eyes and bleeding stumps for legs…but he had remembered how that terrifying creature had looked like; purple hair, red bow, red dress…

Suddenly, he knew he had made a grave mistake.

"Oh, no!" the hunter turned around to leave, but the last thing he saw before a loud _bang_ sounded was a pistol being shoved in his face.

Ella watched as her father hit the ground, his face still contorted in a look of surprise. A gaping hole had been blown into his skull which leaked blood rapidly, staining the carpeting in a crimson shade. Ella lowered her smoking gun and gazed down at the body with misty eyes. He would've never believed her if she said the truth – her father might've been scared of witches, but he passed them on as nothing but tales from paranoid villagers. He was only concerned over her safety that day because he was scared that this 'witch' might've been another word to say 'kidnapper' since children from their village had gone missing. He would never have believed that a girl that resembled that 'monster' would actually be his daughter.

"I'm sorry…daddy," Ella murmured, shutting the corpses eyes and clinging tightly to his stiff arm. "But at least you'll be with mom."


End file.
